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Geoffrey, who would be at any moment as polite to a dairymaid as to a duchess, follows her, and, much to her discomfort,—though she is too civil to say so,—helps her to lay the table. He even insists on filling a dish with the potatoes, and having severely burned his fingers, and having nobly suppressed all appearance of pain,—beyond the dropping of two or three of the esculent roots upon the ground,—brings them in triumph to the spot where Mona is sitting.,"He's covered, safe enough. They've throwed an ould sheet over him,—over what remains of him this cruel day. Och, wirra-wirra!" cries the woman, suddenly, throwing her hands high above her head, and giving way to a peculiar long, low, moaning sound, so eerie, so full of wild despair and grief past all consolation, as to make the blood in Rodney's veins run cold.,"How could you be so absurd about that old Moore?" she says, lightly. "Why he has got nothing to recommend him except his money; and what good," with a sigh, "does that do him, unless to get him murdered!","Not until two?" says Mona, growing miserable again.,Dr. Bland, putting down the glass, forbears to torment him further, and moves away; Geoffrey, who has also come in, takes his place. Bending over the dying man, he touches him lightly on the shoulder.,"You will be near too, Geoffrey?" murmurs Mona, falteringly.,"Anywhere you like. I'm sure we deserve some compensation for the awful sermon that curate gave us this morning.",TO THE READER,"It is very hard on Sir Nicholas," says Mona, who would not call him "Nick" now for the world.,"No, but they are," she says, pointing to her two faithful companions, who are staring hungrily at Rodney and evidently only awaiting the word from Mona to fling themselves upon him.,"No,"—slowly,—"I do not. If I did, I should not love you as—as I do.","And 'he is happier now than he has ever been in all his life before.' Pshaw!" exclaims Sir Nicholas, shutting up the letter impatiently. "He is mad!".